


now that i see you

by galactichan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Homophobia, M/M, Tangled AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-06-06 20:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15202415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galactichan/pseuds/galactichan
Summary: nestled deep in a secluded tower, an almost twenty-one year-old phil spends his days doing chores and dreaming of stepping outside the tower walls. when his mother goes away for her usual journey of finding his yearly birthday present, a kingdom thief by the name of dan stumbles upon the tower and changes phil’s life forever.





	1. Chapter 1

On a cliff nestled on the edge of the world, there lay a flower. It was gorgeous, distilled from pure sunlight, with delicate gilded petals and an aura of silken gold. A simple touch of it was enough to heal the darkest of ailments, piece together a broken heart and coax the most tormented soul from the shadows and into the light.

Another gift, wrapped in layers of softness, was the gift of time itself, the ability to make the clock reverse and bring back what you once had. The rarity of its power was only known by one woman—Mother Gothel—and she was determined to keep it that way.

So that the flower’s capabilities were unlocked, she would gently sing a song, flooding the petals with molten starlight that seemed to fill the air around it with hope.

_ Flower gleam and glow, _

_ Let your power shine, _

_ Make the clock reverse, _

_ Bring back what once was mine… _

The melody was simple and lilting, like a lullaby on a rainy night. Under her fingertips, the flower’s petals began to glisten. When her eyes fluttered shut, she felt the flower’s magic flow through her veins, softening the skin around it and melting away the hardness that years of life had brought her. It bubbled and whirled inside her with a kind of vitality that she’d grown used to having.

With the vitality came equal amounts of hunger and desire. For hundreds of years, Mother Gothel hoarded the flower’s healing magic, keeping it for herself and herself only. The location of the flower was a guarded secret, a treasure chest that only she had the key to. So that no one else could ever have the chance to try and find it, she hid herself away; in her absence, the flower was concealed with foliage.

For centuries, her selfishness kept her young and healthy, but one day, something finally threatened to topple her foolproof plan.

Over the years that Gothel used the flower to keep herself young, a kingdom grew, and eventually from that kingdom came a king and queen. They were everything the people could have hoped for and more, pouring out love and wisdom without expecting anything in return. This adoration only multiplied with the announcement that the queen was having a baby; with such wonderful parents, this child would be a worthy heir for any kingdom.

Shortly before the baby was due to be born, the queen fell ill. The news spread through the kingdom like a disease. From such happy beginnings, all the hope in the world had dissipated to the point where it felt like the sun had been vanquished. In the blink of an eye, the kingdom was cloaked in fear, uncertain darkness brooding on the horizon. Many feared she wasn’t strong enough to give birth.

Anger and sadness fizzled into desperation. For days, people searched far and wide, only to find nothing. The idea of losing the queen became more and more of a reality the longer their efforts were fruitless.

In the darkest of times, there came a light. From word of mouth alone, everyone, young and old alike, learned the legend of the golden flower that could heal anyone, no matter how sick or wounded. After nearly a week of looking for this mythical plant, for some shred of a miracle, palace guards stumbled upon it peeking out of the dense foliage it was shrouded by.

With the greatest care, they were able to dig up the flower and deliver it back to the palace. After medicine with the flower’s healing power was given to the queen, she regained her strength.

Days later, a healthy baby boy—a prince—was born. The king and queen celebrated the miraculous birth of their son by releasing a flying lantern into the heavens. The kingdom followed suit, and thousands of lanterns illuminated the sky.

Their happiness would be short lived.

Upon discovering that her precious flower had been cruelly taken from her, Gothel made her way to the palace in the dead of night to get it back. For hours, she rode from her hidden tower and into the walls of the town until she was able to creep up to the king’s and queen’s bedroom. With her heart lying still in her chest, she sneaked in through an open window and peered through the darkness for some kind of light.

There was no flower in sight. The only thing she could make out in the obscurity of it all was a faint glow emanating from the prince’s bassinet. As she made her way to it, she parted her lips and began to sing the familiar tune, her voice barely more than a breathy whisper.

_ Flower gleam and glow... _

The prince’s hair, upon Gothel singing her song, began to glow with a greater intensity until his entire head was a beacon of pure light. Entranced, the following lyrics died down on her tongue. Yes, the flower might have disappeared for good, but its powers were still very much alive and present in the little boy snoring gently in front of her.

Gothel, whose frigid features were thawing into what they used to be, pulled a pair of scissors from her pocket and attempted to snip a piece of his hair off. Upon the scissor’s cut, the mousy brown turned a deep obsidian, and its power ceased. The lock of hair lying in her outstretched hand was now useless. There was no way of being able to maintain her youth, to preserve this flower’s gift, unless she took the child with her.

Ever so gently, she picked up the baby boy and cradled him in her arms. The young prince made no sound, instead gazing up at her with eyes so big and blue that the entire sky seemed to fit in them. Gothel’s stony heart cracked infinitesimally, and with that, she stole away into the night.

Moments after Gothel had left, the king and queen leapt out of bed and towards the bassinet. It was now empty, and the trickle of cool air breezing through the open window suddenly seemed icier than usual.

Without a moment’s hesitation, they called the guards and pleaded for them to search high and low for their missing child. Despite their best efforts, they could not find their lost prince. As time wore on, the tragedy never lessened, with the entire kingdom in a state of perpetual loss. From then on, he was known as the Lost Prince, his name immortalised in the walls of the castle and etched into the hearts of many forever.

Little did they know that their little boy, the light of their lives, was now hidden away in a secluded tower. For all his life, Gothel raised the boy as her own. She raised him with all the love and care she could provide, but the lingering knowledge of what she had done never left her.

So that he would never leave her, she convinced the boy that the outside world was a dangerous and cruel place. Instead, she kept him inside the tower at all times, where he and his hair were safe. Not knowing any better, the boy was forced to believe her every word; he wouldn’t be safe out there. He could only ever be safe in the arms of his mother in their tower, regardless of what she kept from him.

However, despite the high walls of that tower, despite the seclusion and the secrecy, not everything could be hidden from from the curious boy. Each year, on his birthday, the king and queen released thousands of lanterns into the air. From his room, the young boy would watch, awestruck, as the sky became filled with all kinds of pinks and golds, each blur of colour punctuated with a speck of a flame. The king and queen did this every year in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, their lost prince would return.

Far away from the palace, leaning on a windowsill, was that lost prince, wondering if one day, he might be able to leave the tower for good.

In spite of how hard Gothel had tried all these years to keep him restrained, every time he saw the lanterns, they ignited something within. It would only be a matter of time before the sparks inside him caught flame.

 

* * *

 

  
_ (Almost) Twenty-One Years Later _

 

“Phil!”

When he heard his name, Phil padded down the staircase leading from his bedroom. His mother’s voice echoed through the walls of the tower, just as shrill and piercing as he remembered. It was probably strange to miss someone’s voice, but it was the only voice other than his that he’d ever known. In her absence, his world was quiet.

“Coming, mother!” he answered, standing at the window leading outside. The windowsill framed the view like a painting, lush and verdant and utterly picturesque. Around the tower, grass sprawled out as far as the eye could see; only the very edge of the horizon was shaded with thicker undergrowth and weeping trees.

He stepped up onto the ledge, taking the rope that was fastened at the top and tossing it all the way down. He watched as his mother fastened herself to it and held tightly onto the other end, being careful to not let go as he stepped backwards and supported her weight.

This tower had been his home for twenty years, and in a few days, it would become twenty-one. The space at the top of it, in this isolated corner of the forest, was all he had ever known. When he was younger, he’d become resigned to the fact that he’d never leave, but now that he was on the cusp of adulthood, he yearned for more.

When his mother had made her way up to him, Phil let go of the rope and let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding in.

“Have you cleaned the pantry for me, dear?” his mother asked, stepping off of the ledge and smoothing down her dress.

Phil nodded. “I did. I also made sure to set out the spices for later.” She smiled in approval, and he absentmindedly brushed dust off his trousers. “How was your trip, mother?”

In a matter of seconds, his mother made her way to the nearest chair and flopped down, exhausted.

“It was fine, thank you,” she replied, rubbing her temples. Looking up at Phil, she let out a chuckle, her eyes glinting with mirth. “Come here, darling. Bring the wash basin.”

Phil sighed but gave in. No matter how hard he tried to wash himself, he never had his mother’s touch. There was bound to be at least one spot he’d missed while she was away.

Once he’d grabbed the basin and filled an old rag with warm water, he made his way to where his mother was sitting and sat down in front of her, scooting back until her knees were pressing into his shoulders. Her fingers began carding through his hair, which had (unsurprisingly) become unruly throughout the day.

When the rag was damp, Mother Gothel tilted his head back until it was over her knees and began to wet his hair.

“Won’t your dress get wet, mother?” he asked, frowning.

“It’s only water,” she replied. “Now, can you sing for me, dear? Your hair’s easier to wash when it’s glowing.”

Phil groaned. Every time his mother washed his hair, she always asked the same question and he always gave the same pained reply. Eventually, he’d taught himself how to make his hair glow without singing, but his mother always insisted on making him sing. He couldn’t understand why - it wasn’t like he had the voice of an angel, otherwise she’d make him sing more often. It was only ever when he had his hair washed, and even then, her reasoning was wearing thin.  

“Mother, can’t I just make it glow on my own? It’s easier that way. You know I’m no good at singing.”

He could feel his mother’s steely gaze burning the back of his head.

“Phil,” she muttered, her voice dripping with contempt.

Giving in, Phil opened his mouth and began singing. His hair began to glow a bright gold colour, flowing from the roots onward. Behind him, his mother brushed his hair back, pushing his fringe up. This was how his hair had been styled ever since he was a little boy, with longer parts in the front that got swept back out of his face.

When she was finished washing his hair, Gothel dried it with a towel, turning Phil around to gain better access to it. Phil studied her face as she did this, noticing how her skin suddenly looked smoother and her hair seemed darker than before. The towel was then draped around his shoulders with a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“So, mother,” Phil began, nervously playing with his fingers in his lap, “I’ve figured out what I’d like for my birthday.”

“And what is that?” she responded, her lips curled into a delicate smile.

“I... want to go and see the floating lights.” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. Unable to look her in the eyes, he pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them.

Silence descended. Phil stared down at his knees until his vision became blurry, waiting intently for his mother to do something.

When she finally reacted, she did precisely what he’d feared she would. She sat back for a moment and sputtered out a laugh, her eyes crinkling and her cheeks lighting up. “You mean the stars, Phil?”

Phil stood up, his hands placed behind his back. “These, these aren’t stars, mum. These appear on my birthday, and only on my birthday.”

He sighed, walking over to the window and opening the shutter, leaning onto the ledge. He looked out into the world in front of him, a world he was told he could never experience but always wanted to explore. Even once would be enough for him.

“I just can’t help but think that they’re meant for me.”

His mother stared at him for a moment. For a while, she’d known about his desire to go outside and see the world. It had only become problem after he turned 18. He didn’t say he wanted to go out, but the longing gaze he’d give the window was enough proof for her. The idea of Phil wanting to go out there, to destroy everything she’d worked so tirelessly to maintain, was almost too much to think about. She was determined to keep him under her thumb by any means necessary.

“You want to go outside?” she snapped. Her tone was sour and condescending, as if she was trying her hardest to make him change his mind out of sheer guilt that he’d disappoint her. She laughed again, the sound of it making Phil’s stomach drop. “Just to see those silly lights and nothing else?”

Phil’s throat began closing in, his legs uncertain and wobbly beneath him. In his head, an idea sprung up. It was a possibility more than an idea, something so far-fetched that he even questioned himself over the likelihood of it ever happening, but he’d come too far now to back out.

“Well, maybe to find a boy.”

Her expression shifted from something of bemusement to a kind of steely anger, her jaw clenched. Phil didn’t know how it was possible for her to look so fiery and so frigid at the same time.

“You know I don’t like that, Phil.” she said between her teeth, arching an eyebrow. “Boys don’t like boys, darling. Homosexuality is disgusting and immoral and unnatural and you know that, Phil. I thought I’d taught you better.”

She’d noticed his preference toward men in early childhood. In every storybook she’d ever read to him, he always paid more attention the swashbuckling hero or the knight in shining armour instead of the princess or the damsel in distress. She thought of it as her duty to suppress those desires of his, to educate him on the vulgar practice that was homosexuality. Though she instilled a layer of shame onto him, she never did get rid of the private desires inside of him. He kept those to himself.

Until now.

He slowly picked his head up.

“Mother, I’m an adult. I’ll be turning 21 in a matter of days, and—and I deserve a little independence.”

He held his ground, folding his arms across his chest. The thought of being cooped up in the tower forever was overwhelmingly depressing, especially when there was so much to see and experience and  _ do _ out there. He wasn’t sure how much time was left before he took the plunge and just snuck out. He’d be lying if he didn’t think about it often.

Then again, seeing the world in all its glory involved breaking his mother’s heart and betraying her trust in the worst way possible. Looking up at his mother, at her stern eyes and thin mouth, he realised he couldn’t bear seeing those eyes overflow with tears, or that mouth tremble open at the thought of what he’d done.

Both arguments were equally compelling. For the first time, Phil knew that in order to get what he so desperately wanted, he would have to hurt someone along the way. It just so happened that the ‘someone’ was the only person he’d ever known. Was he really prepared to do that just to see more than what his mother could provide for him up here?

His mother scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You know it’s dangerous outside! People only want you for your hair!” She leapt out of her chair and practically launched herself towards him, her voice growing louder. “Nothing else, Phil! They only see you for your hair! You wouldn’t make it a day out there! You’d be killed, or raped, or taken.”

An uncertain silence hung in the air, silence in which Phil couldn’t breathe a word. His gaze was fixed on his mother, on how her voice was now shaking slightly and her eyes were blinking back moisture.

“I…” she began, lifting her eyes up to meet Phil’s. “I can’t let my only child be reduced to a fate like that.”

Phil softened, if only slightly. It was rare for him to see his mother so upset like this and he hated it. He let out his breath of rebellion and made his way towards the snivelling figure before him so he could comfort her.

“Okay, alright, I’m sorry mother,” he cooed. He placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to prove to her that his presence would be constant and unfaltering from now on. “I won’t leave, okay?”

As much as she tried to hide it, Gothel visibly perked up as soon as the words had left his mouth.

“You promise?” she asked him, her lip still slightly quivering. She placed her hands on top of Phil’s and rubbed her thumb along his knuckles. His efforts were slowly crumbling before her eyes.

He nodded, trying not to let his disappointment show. “I promise, mother. I’m right here, aren’t I?”

She moved her hands to cup his cheeks, smiling warmly up at him. Pulling him down to meet her, she pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead.

“Thank you, darling.”

Swallowing his pride, Phil managed to force a small smile. “Of course, mother.”

She smiled and hugged him, almost clutching onto him for dear life. That confrontation had hit a little too close to home for her liking, and she hated thinking about a life without Phil’s gift in it. When she’d hugged him long enough to get her point across, she unwound her arms from Phil’s neck and made her way into the kitchen.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to think of something else you’d like for your birthday,” she encouraged him, pulling out a knife and chopping board to begin making dinner. “Something good, like your favourite meal.”

He sighed and folded his arms across his chest resentfully.

“I thought the lights were a pretty good thing to ask for,” he mumbled under his breath, leaning against the wall in defeat.

Gothel nearly dropped the knife in surprise. Seconds later, she whipped around, her body brimming with white-hot anger.

“Phil,” she yelled, her voice tense and shrill, “how many times do I have to drill it into you? You are not leaving this tower! Ever!”

Her voice wavered at the end, the sheer volume of it echoing and bouncing off of the tower walls. She slumped against the kitchen counter, her energy spent and her hands loosely curled into fists. They’d already fought once today. She didn’t want to have to do it all again a second time.

She wouldn’t -- couldn’t -- ever let him leave. As long as his hair glowed and kept her young, she needed Phil by her side. But on another level, a deeper, more personal one, she knew that she valued this young man for more than just his hair. She’d never admit it to anyone, but she’d grown unbelievably fond of him, of his quirks and nuances and funny thoughts that filled his head. He was the son she’d never been able to have, her only companion in this isolated place they called home. Without him, she’d die a lonely woman.

For years, Phil had held onto the fleeting hope that one day, maybe, she’d let him go outside, that she’d finally come to her senses and realised that he, too, deserved to experience the world. That was all promptly shattered after those words left her lips. He felt his heart drop like a stone in a well.

“Don’t ever ask to leave this tower again.”

Those words drove daggers through him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed a sob that was creeping up his chest, holding everything in for when he could go back to his bedroom.

Seeing his reaction, Gothel calmed down ever so slightly. She let out a breath, softening.

“It’s for your own good, Phil. Do you understand?”

He nodded, his face blank and impassive. Gothel smiled at him reassuringly and went over to wrap him up in another hug, a gentler one this time.

“I love you, dear,” she whispered in his ear.

He stood statue-like in her arms, every fibre of his being suddenly numb.

“I love you too, mum.” he replied, his voice not sounding like his own and his eyes focusing on nothing in particular in the distance.

After she let go, he backed up from her, stepping away and beginning to walk up to his bedroom. His mother glanced up from the chopping board, confusion etched into her features.

“Where are you going?” she asked, setting the knife down. “I’ve only just started making dinner. Have you eaten at all today?”

He nodded, letting his hand rest on the burgundy curtain that separated his bedroom from everything else - from  _ her _ .

“Yeah. I’m a little tired though. I think I’ll sleep early tonight.”

It was a thinly veiled way of saying that this conversation wasn’t one he wanted to be a part of anymore, that he needed some alone time to pick up the pieces and reassess what he wanted from life. If Gothel didn’t believe him, which he knew she would, she didn’t show it.

“Okay. I see. It’s been a long day. Goodnight, darling. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, mother. I’ll try.”

As soon as he closed the curtain behind him, Phil flopped onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling, letting the tears welling up in his eyes finally spill over. He let them trickle down his cheeks, let them splash onto his hand and make his pillow damp underneath him.

He felt utterly pathetic, an almost twenty-one year old man crying in his bedroom. He felt like a mere child. Of course his mother meant well and only wanted to protect him, but he couldn’t keep living like this. He needed to be his own person, to explore the world, and finally live his own life. And while sneaking out was still a shred of an idea, the fear of the repercussions his mother had knocked into him was enough to keep him trapped within himself, within whatever tower of anxiety he’d constructed.

Tower. It always came back to the tower. Being secluded from humanity in an ordinary house would be fine, but the fact that he was stuck, imprisoned, even, in a tower made it infinitely worse. How was he ever supposed to escape from here if he was up in the air?

A thought dawned on him, one that he didn’t want to confront but felt like he had to. What if his mother wasn’t protecting him from the world? What if she was protecting the world from him? What if, unbeknown to him, his hair was actually something evil, a dark power that he couldn’t be trusted to use responsibly? He didn’t even know what he was capable of doing in these four walls, let alone out there.

These thoughts plagued him until night fell. From where he was lying, Phil could hear his mother slowly unwind, making her way to bed and settling in for sleep. Soon the tower was cloaked in velvety darkness, and everything was peaceful, calm, still. Stars twinkled, incandescent, overhead as the world fell silent.

When he knew his mother was asleep, Phil sat up. His room was mostly dark, save for the moonlight trickling through his window and pooling on his bed. That sliver of light, that glimpse of what lay out there, was enough to convince him to get out of bed and see the world by night.

After rubbing his hands over his face, he peeled off the covers, slid off his bed and winced as his bare feet came into contact with the cold stone floor. With his heart racing, he cautiously tiptoed out of his room and down the stairs, being careful not to wake his mother. Years of practice meant he was able to stealthily step over every place he knew would creak and make his way over to the window without a sound.

He opened up the shutters, jumped up onto the ledge and swung his legs over it, resting his back against an open shutter. The inside of his left foot was resting against the rough brick of the tower, his right touching the other side of the window frame.

The night air seemed to diffuse over his face and rustle his hair, cooling his skin. He looked out, blissed out and calm, to the view he’d almost grown used to. He looked out and tried to soak in the sound of the waterfall in the distance, the fireflies drifting through the grass, the moonlight cascading down the side of the tower. It was a view he’d never be totally used to. At times like this, the world surprised him with just how different the same view could be at varying times of the day.

He knew that in two days time, the empty sky would be overflowing with floating lights, just like every year. And like every year, there would come a deep desire to leave the cramped little tower he disliked more and more, to finally travel further than what his eye could see.

Phil sat there wondering when his life would truly begin.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time daybreak had toppled over the hills and glazed the sides of the tower in warm light, Phil was already awake. With his bedroom void of him, the early morning sun filtering through the window cascaded over nothing but well-made sheets and carefully placed pillows.

Almost every morning, Phil rose early to get his chores out of the way and to have a few hours to himself while his mother was still deep in slumber.

It took everything in his power not to leave. The instant he woke, it was his first thought. It crawled its way into his mind, planted itself there and refused to leave. The pent up thoughts he’d been having for twenty years were finally bubbling to the surface; every minute he found it harder and harder to contain them, to the point where they wholly consumed him.

He became obsessed with imagining the feeling of grass beneath his feet, the blades tickling his toes. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the smell of the ground beneath him, rich deep earth and fresh grass and fragrant flowers. He wanted to feel the sun on his cheeks, to feel the breeze flow past him and tease his hair into innumerable windswept styles.

More than anything, though, he so desperately wanted to feel the embrace of another man and tangle himself with him. The thought of lips pressed to his with a tongue teasing its way inside, someone’s hand at the nape of his neck before trailing down-

Phil shook his head and snapped out of it. He could hear his mother begin to stir in her bedroom.

“Good morning, mother!”

His voice was chirpy and he smiled at his mother’s fatigued form, her eyes almost hollowed out with dark circles. She yawned and looked up at him slowly, managing a forced smile.

Some dark corner of Phil’s mind reminded him of what he’d planned to do. He figured he’d present her a different idea for his present before it was too late, and now was as good a time as any.

“So, mother…”

Gothel looked up at him.

“I know what I want for my birthday now.”

He spoke the words awkwardly, almost as if they held some underlying meaning. A hidden plan, perhaps. Gothel arched an eyebrow in suspicion.

“And what is that, flower?”

Phil began picking at the skin on his arms out of nervousness. Now that he almost had what he wanted, the thought of it suddenly slipping through his fingers would crush him.

“The paint? You know, the one from the shells you once brought me?”

Gothel sat for a moment, contemplation visible on her face. It was at least a 3 day journey to retrieve that paint, but it was doable. In her eyes, it was far better than allowing him to go outside and chase the lights, at any rate.

“Well, that’s—that’s a very long trip, dear. Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own?”

 _She didn’t say no_ , the voice in his head screamed. _She’s actually thinking about it._

He was so overcome with emotion that he had to fight to keep his smile at bay. He didn’t want to become too giddy just yet, so he smoothed his features into something neutral, something that concealed the whirlpool of everything he was feeling.

“I know,” he replied, feigning a frown. “But I’ll be safe as long as I’m here.”

Gothel thought again, and then sighed, a bone-deep and weary thing that seemed to highlight her age. Pulling herself together, she smiled warmly at him, nodded and stood up.

“Okay, alright. In order to bring it back in time I’ll have to pack and leave this afternoon.”

She turned around to him, cradling his face in her hands and planting a gentle but firm kiss atop his forehead.

“I love you very much, dear. Take care of the place for me, will you?”

He nodded and pulled away to face her. Her eyes were sparkling like they were filled with unshed tears, but he reckoned it was the light playing tricks on him. However verbal Gothel was with her love and praise, it never showed physically.

“Of course, mother. I love you too.”

Later that afternoon, Gothel was packed. Her basket was filled with assorted vegetables and fruits, plus a loaf of bread and a knife for preparation. She’d gathered extra clothing and blankets, and everything was ready for her departure. All that was left to do was say her goodbyes. She wrapped her arms around Phil tightly.

“Be safe, darling,” she whispered in his ear. She pulled away and placed her hands firmly on his shoulders. “I’ll be back in a few days. Don’t forget to eat!”

Phil laughed as she stood at the window and folded her hands around the rope. He pulled it taut so she wouldn’t fall.

“I will, don’t worry, mother!”

She blew him a kiss and smiled. Moments later, she was stepping off of the window with a cheery wave and a flick of her long dark curls. She glided down the rope effortlessly, the wind billowing her cloak and carding through her hair. When her feet touched the grass, she let go and looked up. From so far away, Phil couldn’t tell the expression on her face, but she raised a hand in a way that wasn’t as enthusiastic as usual. He hoped for her (and his) sake that her low mood stemmed from longing rather than apprehension.

Phil lifted up his hand to acknowledge her, and watched as she began walking out of the clearing towards the world beyond the tower. He slumped his arms down onto the ledge.

He couldn’t help but to think of his mother as incredibly privileged. She was able to go anywhere she pleased, she could whistle down the rope and wander about aimlessly if she wanted to. He knew she took that right for granted. He couldn’t stand to be confined in the tower any longer, cleaning and reading the same four books over and over. His curiosity was only limited to what she provided him with, and his craving to rebel and leave was nearly overbearing. He couldn’t live like a caged animal anymore.

He was a human being, and he needed to experience life the way it was supposed to be. He wanted to feel love, and heartbreak, and joy, and to experience every emotion that the people in the story books he read as a child felt. He wanted to _live_.

He wanted her privilege.

It took an hour of watching his mother’s figure fade into the distance and wrestling with his own thoughts to even consider leaving the tower. The moment, crisp and glorious and almost too good to be true, had finally arrived.

If he closed his eyes, he could see himself down there, the soles of his feet being tickled by grass and his lungs full of fresh air. He could walk on something other than stone, see more than walls covered with faded paintings from years gone by. For the first time in his almost 21 years of existence, he could be more than just his mother’s crutch.

As terrible as it was to think about betraying his mother in such a way, Phil knew deep, deep down that he deserved this one small journey. He didn’t even have to go too far if he didn’t want to; no matter how far he strayed, if he could see the tower, he’d be able to find his way home. The rope to pull himself back up would still be there. He could come up and down as many times as he wanted until his mother returned.

All he wanted was to be on the outside looking in rather than the other way around like it had been for so long. Now that it was finally in his grasp, nothing could stop him.

In a moment of impetuosity, he lifted his head off his hands, sat up on the ledge and shuffled further away from it than he’d ever gone before. Unable to look down, he stood up, feeling his legs shake underneath him.

A combination of puberty and genes caused him to be slightly taller than the window frame, something which forced him to grab onto the rope to steady himself. The rope moved with his body weight and he froze, clutching at it until his knuckles were strained white. He was finally able to swing himself around so that his feet were resting on the ledge.

He was achingly close to pushing off and letting himself slide down the rope, but he stopped. He couldn’t. Wouldn’t. The weight of what he’d just tried to do hit him like a truck.

Feeling guilt crawl inside him, he swung himself around until he was able to let go of the rope. Sitting down on the ledge, he gave a bone-weary sigh, his mother’s every word ringing in his ears.

He looked out onto the horizon, his hands clutching the rope.

Not just yet. But soon - someday now, even. He’d have to settle for that.

 

* * *

 

Dan Howell was on the run again.

For those who knew him, the Kingdom of Corona’s most notorious thief, him making a run for it from the kingdom guards was nothing more than typical. This was no ordinary theft, however. He managed to sneak into the castle, get to the throne room, and steal the lost prince’s crown without being detected until the last second.

“Hey! Stop!” a voice said.

Dan swiftly dashed over the bridge leading into and out of the kingdom and quickly became lost in the tangle of trees and foliage.

He could hear the palace horse’s hooves galloping nearby, their riders talking amongst themselves and deciding on where they should split up and search for the thief. Dan, meanwhile, was carefully moving in the opposite direction of where they were talking. They couldn’t see him, and he couldn't see them. He was safe, for now.

Dan peeked into the little satchel he was carrying, making sure the crown was still in it. The jewels of the crown shimmered and scattered fragments of molten light that illuminated Dan’s face. He smirked to himself. Without any help, he’d managed to steal the damn crown _and_ escape the palace guards without a scratch. All he needed now was a place to hideout.

To keep his distance from the prowling guards, he headed north, away from them. For hours, he wove his way through forests and shrubbery, occasionally stopping to rip a poster of himself off a tree.

Typical. The most notorious criminal this kingdom had ever known, and they had to use _that_ photo of him? Before he’d turned to a less socially acceptable way of going about his business, he’d been known as the pretty face of the town. He’d had a test shoot done, for god’s sake. Any one of those photos would have been better than the confused face squinting at him through the yellowing paper.

Sighing to himself, he continued on his journey. Less than an hour later, he eventually stumbled upon a shallow cave at the edge of the forest. What lay beyond was obscured by a barrier of thick vines. When he brought his hand up to touch one, he couldn’t feel any thorns.

“Must be my lucky day,” he mumbled to himself.

He relaxed for a few moments and collected his thoughts before scanning the area around him. Seeing it was clear, he walked through the vines that cascaded down the exit of the cave.

There, standing in a little clearing, was a tall, stone tower with a shingled roof. Dan thought he couldn’t get any luckier. As he slowly neared the base of the tower, he realised that climbing it would be no easy feat. He had nothing to use for grappling onto the wall, so he’d have to use the cobblestones and pray that he didn’t fall.

Slowly but surely, Dan climbed his way up the tower and fell through the window, taking a few moments to steady himself and stand up.

Almost immediately, he was hit in the head with something, and fell back to the ground, the world going black.

 

* * *

 

Phil held a frying pan in his hand, standing above Dan’s unconscious body, his eyes wide and his breath sporadic.

There was a person, _a man_ , lying in front of him.

This person had somehow climbed his tower and broken in, someone other than his mother. Phil didn’t know why the man had climbed the tower or how he’d found it, but every instinct he had pointed to one reason: his hair.

Phil noticed the leather satchel the man was carrying, and he picked it up cautiously. He peered inside, pulling out a glittery, sparkly little thing that he had no idea what to do with. He’d never seen anything like it; it was too big to be a bracelet, and too wide to look good as a necklace. He stood in front of the mirror, staring at himself with the _thing_ in his hands.

Slowly, he lifted the object and lowered it onto his head. For a moment, he stood and stared at himself. It felt unusual, such a cold, heavy weight pressing on his scalp, but in a way, there was something inside him that told him that this was meant for him. This was just like the lights; instead of seeing them from afar, he could admire them up close, nestled in his hair, the dusky redness of the jewels making his eyes appear even bluer than usual.

After staring for too long, he shook his head to rid him of the thought. Being trapped away for so long had caused him to believe that anything that came his way was destined for him.

Maybe his destiny wasn’t to see the floating lights, or have such a beautiful thing on his head, or watch over an equally beautiful man sprawled out on the floor. Maybe his destiny wasn’t to set foot on grass, or feel running water between his toes, or inhale lungfuls of fresh air and feel _free_ for the first time in his life.

Maybe his mother was right about everything like she always was.

The man began to groan and stir on the ground, his eyelids fluttering. Phil panicked, quickly putting the object back into the satchel.

Before the stranger had a chance to wake up, Phil set him down in a chair, tied him up with rope, and was prepared to question him. He just wasn’t prepared for his reaction after he woke fully a few minutes later.

“What the hell?!”

The man looked around at his surroundings before noticing that he was tied to the chair he was sitting in. Phil, meanwhile, hid around a wall and tried to calm himself down.

“Who are you?!” Phil yelled, clutching the frying pan in his hand. His tone made the stranger sit still in the chair. Dan grabbed onto the armrests so hard his knuckles went white. Phil slowly began to walk out from behind the wall, letting the man see his face.

“How did you find me?” he asked cautiously, raising his frying pan so the stranger could see it.

The man stared up at him, his gaze never faltering on Phil. All Phil could do was stare back, his gaze equally unfaltering. He was transfixed by this stranger, by his head of soft curls and eyes twinkling like the morning sun.

The stranger’s lips curled up into a smirk.

“Y’know, I usually save the kinky stuff for the third date, but that’s just me,” he chuckled, waiting for Phil’s expression to soften. It never did.

“I said, who are you, and how did you find me?” Phil’s voice was just under a scream at this point, his hands trembling as they gripped the pan. The man cleared his throat.

“I’m Dan, Dan Howell. And you are?” Though his smirk had faltered, his tone still held an upbeat, charming tone to it, the kinds of which Phil had never heard before. Unsure of what to make of it, his expression didn’t soften.

“Phil. And never mind how you found me, I know why you’re here.”

Dan’s eyebrows furrowed. Oh god, was Phil going to report him? Would he confiscate his satchel and turn him in to the palace guards?

He shrugged and sat back in his chair, playing coy for now. “Do you now?”

Phil fixed his eyes more fiercely on Dan. “Yes. For my hair.”

Glancing up at Phil’s head, Dan’s expression morphed into something of confusion. Hair? What the hell could he possibly do with the boy’s hair? Out of everything he’d anticipated himself hearing, _that_ certainly wasn’t on the list.

Objectively, it was pretty hair, sleek and dark and brushed back off his forehead. Dan supposed Phil could cut it off and sell it for profit, but he had a much more profitable item in his satchel.

Shit. The satchel. Where was it?

“I’m not here for your hair,” he said, more of a question than a statement. Dan looked around as subtly as he could until something brown caught the corner of his eye, his gaze snapping to it. Phil followed Dan’s eyes to the satchel lying near his feet and he picked it up.

“Is this what you’re here for?” he asked, dangling it in front of Dan’s face. Dan writhed in his chair, but he was still tied up and utterly unable to move.

“Yes,” Dan responded, his teeth clenched. “I’m… taking it to someone. A… friend. Who needs it. And I didn’t have anywhere to go to, so I stumbled upon this tower. The rest is history.”

“What does that mean?”

Dan looked up at him, his eyes glinting with mirth. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Alright,” Phil said, still dangling the satchel in front of him. “You’re the only person who’s been up here apart from my mother.”

“Your mother’s here?”

“No. She went away to get some paint for my birthday. It wasn’t what I really wanted, but she won’t let me have what I want, so…” he trailed off, frowning.

“What do you really want?”

“Why would I trust you with that?” Phil snapped in reply, his voice rising. “It’s not just something I can talk about easily.”

“Christ, alright,” Dan murmured, blinking. “Listen, I’m sorry I intruded on your…”

“Home,” Phil filled in.

“You _live_ here?”

“Yes?” Phil responded, tilting his head in confusion.

“Right, whatever. I’m sorry I intruded on your home, Phil. I’d leave, but a) I’m tied up, b) you have my satchel and c) I have no idea how to get out of this tower.”

Phil stared at Dan for a small while, a plan forming in his head. If they both wanted certain things which involved getting out of the tower...

“I’ll make you a deal, Dan Howell,” Phil announced. He walked over to the window, pulled open the burgundy curtains and opened the shutters, letting the warm white sunlight stream in and melt over his skin. “Do you know the lights? The ones that fill the sky once a year?”

Dan had to take a moment before it registered, but he reluctantly nodded. “The lantern thing they do for the lost prince?”

So they _weren’t_ random lights. Or stars. Phil nodded. “Well, in two days, these lanterns will fill the night sky, and if you want your precious satchel back, you will take me to them, acting as my guide.”

Dan raised an eyebrow. Of course he’d be wary. This could easily be a trap; he risked being sent to the palace dungeon if he said yes. On the other hand, though, he risked not being able to get his satchel back.

“You - you just want to go and see the lanterns?”

“Yes.”

“And you promise to give me my satchel back once we’re done?”

Phil nodded, leaning over him and pushing the chair back a few inches. “I promise,” he began, his eyes roving over Dan, “and when I promise something, I never, _ever_ , break that promise.”

Dan thought for a long while before sighing and looking down at his lap.

“Alright, fine, I’ll take you to see the lanterns.”

Phil jumped back happily, almost bounding up from the floor. Once he’d calmed himself down, he turned back around to Dan. When Dan looked down at himself, Phil knelt down and slowly untied him.

Untying Dan was a unique experience for Phil. The combination of being so close to him, close enough to catch a whiff of whatever woodsy scent clung to his clothes, and the feeling of Dan’s eyes boring holes into his skull was enough to makes his nerves short circuit. Every time his fingers brushed past Dan’s legs, or arms, or neck, a trail of sparks shot up through his fingers.

“You’ll get your satchel back as soon as we get back here from our journey,” he said finally, standing away from Dan and trying to calm himself down.

Dan rolled his eyes and nodded, wincing slightly as his hands rubbed over his wrists.

“Do you have everything you need? We’ll have to leave like, now.”

Phil blinked a few times and looked around the tower, nodding. “I’ve got everything.”

Dan sighed out, walking over to the window, standing up on it and taking the rope. “Let’s go, then.”

It didn’t quite sink in to Phil that he was leaving the tower. That he was going to have to slide down that rope, and have his feet hit the grass below. It seemed so foreign, to the point where he was questioning whether this was all some fever dream he’d constructed for himself.

Looking around, he tried to take in every little detail he could remember. This tower was all he’d ever known; every tear, every laugh, every toothy smile was etched into the peeling paint on the walls. He looked at the kitchen, with its mismatched cupboards and drawers and wooden stool he used to use when he wasn’t tall enough to reach what he needed. His eyes travelled up the stairs to his bedroom, to a window that never quite shut properly, framed with thick burgundy curtains that he’d never been able to move with ease. He looked up at the years’ worth of paintings that had accumulated, all different colours and patterns and sizes, and sighed. The sound of it seemed to rattle around the tower, filling space he knew would be empty very soon.

Too soon.

Phil watched Dan descend down the rope and land on the ground with ease. Looking up at the window, he used a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and something akin to a smile ghosted his cheeks.

“You coming, pretty boy?”

Pulling the satchel over his shoulder, Phil took one final look around everything he’d ever known. Words didn’t do justice to the raw emotion he felt, knowing how betrayed his mother would feel if she ever found out, but even that deep pang of guilt wasn’t enough to overcome the urge to see and do more.

 _It isn’t forever_ , the voice in his head reminded him. _Once you’ve seen the lights, you can come back._ With that, he was stepping with shaky legs onto the ledge and looking down, far down at what he was about to face.

Letting out a deep breath, Phil took the worn out rope in his hands, and jumped.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! I'm so sorry that this is such a long time coming, but the next chapter is finally out! A few things to note though:
> 
> 1\. Beth (awrfhi) is no longer going to be collaborating on it, I will be the sole writer of this fic for now on. Nothing happened, she simply grew too busy, which is okay!
> 
> 2\. I'm not sure how often it will be updated, but it will get written, don't worry
> 
> Anyways, I'm very sorry if this chapter is rough or bad. I wrote it on a whim to simply get it out, so I'm sorry if it's not very good!! I do hope you'll enjoy it regardless though. Thank you so much for reading!

Phil stopped as soon as he reached the very end of the rope. 

 

He held his legs up so they wouldn’t drag on the ground, his eyes fixed down at it, watching the breeze whistle through the blades of grass below him. He cautiously loosened a leg from the rope, letting it fall down to the ground, the other one following. His eyes filled with tears. 

 

The sun was warm on his skin, and the wind licked up his whole body and twirled through his hair. Phil wiggled his toes, the grass underfoot. He fell to his knees a few moments later, spreading his hands out around it and rolling onto his back. He wiped his eyes, smiling widely and laid out on the grass, letting the sun shine onto him. 

 

Dan, meanwhile, stared at him. His eyebrows were tilted up, his arms folded, his face in an expression that read  _ what the hell? _

 

“You okay?” He asked, almost afraid to go near him. Phil nodded in reply, sitting up, leaning on his hands.

 

“I’m perfect.” He giggled up at Dan, his face never breaking the smile. “I’ve never felt the ground.”

 

Dan had to do a double take. “You—You what?” He started, jaw going slack. “How the hell have you never touched the ground?!”

 

Phil fidgeted, now sitting up completely, hands in his lap, anxiously playing with each other. “I was always told not to go outside. I’ve never been out of the tower my whole life.”

 

Dan stood there. He didn’t know for how long, but it felt like an eternity. He couldn’t comprehend the fact that Phil hadn’t  _ ever  _ left the tower in his whole  _ life.  _ Never felt the breeze on his face, never felt grass beneath his feet. He took a long, deep breath. 

 

“Alright, well, if you’ve never been outside before, you better experience the world right.” Dan offered his hand to Phil, smiling down at him warmly. Phil took it, standing up and brushing off his trousers. 

 

“What do you mean?” Phil asked, tilting his head and leaning in closer to Dan. Dan laughed and folded his arms. 

 

“I mean, we have to get out there, let you meet people.”

 

Phil went white. All color drained from his face, and he swore he was losing vision. “M-Meet people..? B-But, I—“

 

Dan cut him off, shaking his head and setting his hand down on the small of Phil’s back, leading him away from the tower. “I know a place for lunch okay? They’re fine people.”

 

Phil was still tense, but Dan’s hand on him made him oddly calm. He let out a deep breath. “Promise you won’t leave me?”

 

Dan shook his head and rolled his eyes, chuckling. “I promise.”

 

Phil sighed out and looked down for a moment, the feeling of the grass against his skin still so foreign. He pulled his head back up, hugging himself tightly, the arms around his torso acting as something familiar he could control in the moment. “Okay,” he began, “let’s go then.”

 

* * *

  
“I’m telling you, Phil, this place is the best in the whole kingdom—Ah, here it is!” Dan lead Phil down a long, beaten path, having to explain so many things about the trees, and the animals, and the plants that lined the deep forest they walked through. Many of which he had absolutely no knowledge about. It was annoying at first, but he eventually found it quite entertaining watching someone experience the world for the first time, like a young child. He quickly found that Phil became curious about absolutely  _ anything _ . 

 

They finally came upon the small cottage-looking establishment, Phil becoming apprehensive once again. “Are you sure this is okay..? Will they hurt me?” 

 

Dan laughed loudly in reply. “They won’t hurt you, I promise! And if they do, I’ll protect you. Now c’mon, you have people to meet.” He placed his hand on the small of Phil’s back again, much like back at the tower. He applied the smallest bit of pressure to push Phil along more of the path leading to the door of the place. Dan couldn’t help but note the warmth radiating to his fingertips from Phil’s skin.

 

Phil tried to ignore the blush that was forming because of the placement of Dan’s hand.

 

Dan opened the door, leading him inside and never taking his hand off of him. He kept close to Phil, and slowly, every head in the restaurant turned to look at them.

 

“They’re staring at us.” Phil whispered, nearly inaudibly, near Dan’s ear. “Why are they staring at us?”

 

Dan grinned and chuckled, turning to him. “Because you’re new.” He answered, looking back at the dozens of men that were staring at them. “This is Phil, everyone.” Dan announced, loudly, sweeping the audience that they’d accumulated. “Treat him nicely.”

 

“What the hell are you doing here, Howell?” One of the men, a burly, tall, intimidating middle-aged man, asked. He was near the front, his arms crossed over his chest. 

 

Dan dropped the bad boy attitude he was trying to play up, crossing his own arms in defense. “Listen, guys,” he scratched the back of his neck, looking around at all of them, “he’s lived in a tower his whole life, this is literally his first day outside. I promised to show him around.”

 

Phil interrupted for a moment, leaning into him. “How do they know you..?” 

 

The man started to laugh and threw his head back. “It’s a gay bar, kid. Your guide here’s gay.”

 

Phil was taken aback for a moment. There were other people who liked boys, other than him? And Dan was one of them? In and instant, his whole world widened like it never had before; wider than even when his feet touched the Earth. “You’re, gay?”

 

Dan’s heart sank. It wasn’t the first time he’d ever heard that phrase before, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. The whole sentence was laced with disappointment he couldn’t stand to hear. “Yeah..” He said, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Sorry.”

 

Phil blinked at him and shook his head, his eyes nearly welling up with tears. “Don’t be.” He breathed out. “I am too.”

 

Somehow, those three little words were loud enough to be heard throughout the entire place, and all of the men, young and old, exploded into cheer and applause, happy that the newbie was at least one of them. “He’s always welcome, then!” A different man, a friend of the first one, pulled Phil away from Dan and launched him into a crowd to ask him questions to get to know the new member of their congregation. 

 

Dan stood back and watched Phil’s cheeks flush from the bombardment of questions, leaning on the bar and keeping a close eye on them, and more importantly, Phil.

 

“What brings you two here, hm?” 

 

Phil shrugged and smiled down at the many men at his feet, having been hoisted up to sit on a table above them. “Well, Dan wanted to take me here before we moved on to going to see the floating lanterns—“

 

A few of them erupted into snickering laughter, looking back at Dan. “Aw, how cute! Dan’s taking his pretty boy on a date.”

 

Phil didn’t know if his cheeks could flood with a color any darker. “Oh, no, no, it’s... it’s not a date. He’s just guiding me, you see, so he can get his crown back.”

 

The men all stopped and went wide-eyed, again turning back to Dan. “So you were the one who stole the prince’s crown, eh?”

 

Dan went white. The news spread faster than he thought it would. “I..” He started, throat dry. “Yeah. It was me.” He stuck his hands deep into his pockets, making himself look small. “Gonna report me to the palace guards, Vlad?”

 

Vlad, the first man to speak to them when they walked in, rolled his eyes. “Oh please. But I would look out for them, if I were you. They’ve been crawling all over since early this morning. They know you frequent here, so I’d get what you need and leave. It’s only a matter of time before they check here.”

 

Dan flickered his eyes from Vlad to Phil, nodding in acknowledgement. “Can you wrap us up a little bit of everything, just to keep us going?”

 

Vlad sighed and rolled his eyes, walking over to behind the bar to grab them some food and supplies. “I suppose.”

 

Dan grinned and pulled Phil back down from the table, looking back at Vlad. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back later.”

 

Vlad laughed and shook his head, wrapping up the little parcel and sliding it across the bar. “Don’t worry about it. Just get him to the kingdom safely.” Dan picked up the white linen package, Vlad setting his jaw. “Be careful.”

 

Dan took Phil’s arm and tied the bundle to his belt, swallowing thickly. “I will.” He turned around, and set his hand once again to Phil’s back.

 

Almost as soon as they arrived, they had to leave. Dan really hated being a thief sometimes.

 

* * *

 

“When do you think we should stop to rest?” Phil asked, shuffling his feet on the ground, his eyes growing tired. 

 

“I dunno. After a little bit more walking—“ He was cut off by the snapping of a tree branch, the neighing of a horse closely following. He could hear people talking a few meters away.

 

Palace guards. Close.

 

He pulled Phil behind a tree, placing a finger on his lips. “Quiet!” He hissed, moving to look around the corner, an arrow whizzing past him as soon as he poked his head around the trunk, it nearly grazing his cheek.

 

“Found him!” One of the guards yelled, and Dan grabbed Phil’s hand and bounded off of the tree, sprinting in the opposite direction of the sound of horse’s hooves. 

 

“You need to run, Phil!” He yelled to him, keeping a tight grip of Phil’s hand, pushing low-hanging tree branches out of his path. 

 

Phil kept up as best as he could, looking behind him every few seconds, stopping abruptly and stumbling when Dan fell. 

 

It was a hard descent; Dan’s foot had gotten caught on a tree root, and his hand was gashed on a rock when he pushed them out to brace his fall. He stumbled back up and was back to his footing, his uninjured hand grabbing Phil’s again and taking off once more.

 

They ran for what seemed like forever, finally coming to a stop in a small clearing. Dan slumped down onto the ground, trying to catch his breath, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. 

 

“We lost them,” he gasped, head thrown back. The pain of his cut finally caught up to him, and he cringed, looking down at the long line in his palm. He silently cursed to himself. 

 

Phil noticed his distress, sitting down across from him. “What’s wrong?” He asked, spreading his legs out in front of him.

 

Dan lifted up his hand, and Phil studied the crimson colored slash. He crawled toward him and took his hand, looking up at Dan sympathetically. “This is going to look weird but, don’t freak out, okay?”

 

Dan cocked an eyebrow apprehensively, darting his eyes from left to right before they finally settled onto Phil’s. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen. “Okay..?”

 

Phil lifted Dan’s hand up, pushing it through his hair, smiling at him reassuringly. He closed his eyes, singing under his breath, keeping his hand on top of Dan’s.

 

Phil’s hair began to radiate a warm, golden shine from the roots to the very tips of his hair, the power flowing through every strand and concentrating on the hand that was tangled in it. It was enough to illuminate much of the small clearing they occupied, the light glittering off of tiny drops of dew in the grass.

 

Dan’s hand was loosened from Phil’s hair as soon as the glowing ceased, the wound that deeply ran across his palm now gone, no trace of it ever occurring to be found anywhere around it. Phil’s eyes opened to assess Dan’s reaction. 

 

It was safe to say that Dan was in shock. Not only from the fact that his hand was completely healed, but from the fact that Phil’s hair  _ just fucking glowed.  _ He opened his mouth to ramble with questions, but Phil was already speaking.

 

“It’s been like that forever. I was born with it. I’m not sure where it came from.” There were Dan’s top two questions answered. “It’s just, always been like that, I guess.”

 

Dan relaxed a bit, settling again. “Is that why you,” He began, hesitating. “You never left, the tower?”

 

Phil nodded and looked down for a moment, playing with his fingers. “My mother told me that when I was a baby, people tried to cut it, so they could take it for themselves.” He said, moving the hair in the back of his head aside, showing a small strip of midnight color. “But once it’s cut, it darkens, and loses its power.” He looked back up at Dan and sat back, away from him again. “So I stayed in the tower, away from everyone. A gift like this, just… has to be protected.”

 

Dan reached out, taking Phil’s hand and squeezing it. “Listen, no one is going to get your hair.” He said, rubbing his fingers over Phil’s knuckles. “After we get you to the lanterns, I’ll make sure you get back to that tower safe and sound, alright?”

 

Phil pulled his hand away from Dan’s, letting his face fall into them. “But I’m not sure if I want to go back to that damn tower!” He said, looking up at him through his fingers. “The world is the exact opposite of what she told me. It’s lively, and beautiful, and I long to discover more of it.”

 

Dan sat there for a moment before he pulled his hands away from Phil’s face. “Then I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

 

Phil’s eyes flickered up at him, the blue in them gleaming. “Promise?”

 

Dan nodded and laid down, pulling Phil down with him, letting him lay close to him. For warmth, no other reason. Maybe.

 

“Promise.”


	4. Chapter 4

For nearly twenty-one years, Phil spent his life cooped up in a tower, the only glimpse of an outside world being the one he could see from his window. Being able to run on the grass or feel the sunshine gleam on his face was something he could only dream about. Until now.

 

Because now, he was living that dream. And god, he swore every minute was better than the last.

 

Phil woke slowly, sitting up and rubbing his groggy eyes with the back of his hand, stretching out his arms and legs. He turned his gaze to his trusty guide, who was already up and lively, adjusting a few buckles on his boots, his foot up on a rock. “Morning, sunshine.” He said, chuckling to himself. “Glad to see you’re finally up.” He set his foot back down, offering a hand to Phil so he could stand.

 

He took it, rising to his feet and yawning, eyes still adjusting to the light. “How much longer until we reach the kingdom?” He asked, brushing off the dust that had accumulated on his clothes overnight. Dan shrugged, folding his arms over his chest. 

 

“Not sure. If we travel far today and don’t run into any guards, I’m sure we could be there by tomorrow morning, if not by noon tomorrow at the latest.” He answered, beginning to walk, beckoning Phil to do the same. “We’ll get there by your birthday, I promise. You’ll get to see the lanterns.”

 

Phil smiled to himself, eyes drifted down on the ground. He walked side-by-side with Dan, keeping on the small trail they were traveling by. “Thank you.” His voice was soft, still laced with fatigue. “I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”

 

Dan couldn’t help but let his cheeks flush with color, a smile washing across his face. He shrugged sauvely. “Eh. It’s no big deal, really.”

 

Phil rolled his eyes and nudged him with his elbow, pushing him playfully. “Just take the compliment, jackass.”

 

Dan laughed, eyes widening and jaw going slack for a moment. “Wow, you go outside for a day and a half and you’re already blending in. Look at you.” He clutched his chest, mock crying, wiping a faux tear from his cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

 

Phil suppressed the wide smile that tugged at the corners of his lips, settling on a more subtle, less lovelorn one. God, he needed to stop getting crushes on boys so easily. From the epic heroes in his childhood storybooks, and now to Dan. He figured he’d grow out of the little crush soon enough. Dan turned back to him after his laughter died down.

 

“But, you’re welcome.” He said, looking to him and letting his eyes drift for a moment. “I’m glad it’s you I’m doing this for and not someone weird. Or annoying.”

Phil cocked an eyebrow and sputtered out a laugh. “I hadn’t touched the ground until yesterday, I’m not the exactly the quintessential image of ‘normal’.” He hugged himself, giggling. 

 

Dan clicked his tongue. “That’s true,” he began, “but you aren’t weird in a ‘god-I-can’t-stand-you’ way, you’re weird in a good way.” He paused for a moment, looking back to him and delicately smiling, his one dimple popping in his cheek. “In the best way possible.”

 

The words made Phil’s heart flip in his chest. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Gothel moved herself out of the underbrush and into the clearing where the tower was, having turned around the evening before. She realized she had forgotten the supplies to gather his paints, of all things. How could she be so forgetful? That was the  _ one  _ important thing she needed! She thanked the heavens for the fact that she realized her error before it was too late to turn back.

 

She reached the foot of the tower, taking in a deep breath. “Phil!” She called. “Phil, darling, I forgot a few of the supplies, can you lower the rope for me, dear?” She waited a few moments for a response, only to receive silence as an answer. “Phil?”

 

After a few more minutes of deafening quiet, she panicked. Gothel raced around to the back of the tower, pulling the thick grown-in vines off of the brick, beginning to tear down the off-white stones to enter in the passageway that she created all those years ago.

 

She pushed aside the opening to it once she ascended up, dropping everything she had on her, darting across the room to rip away the curtains and the drapes and everywhere else that he could be hidden. She checked his bedroom, only to find it empty. 

 

The tower itself was empty. He was gone.

 

Gothel tugged at her hair, breathing heavily, stepping back a few paces. Her ankle hit something with weight to it, to which her attention was diverted.

 

She bent down to pick up the tattered chestnut colored sac, opening it and carefully lifting the contents from within. She held a glittering, jeweled crown in her hands, staring at it for a moment, the look of it oddly familiar. 

 

It hit her all at once. She frantically dropped the crown, falling back and crawling away from it, as if the thing itself were a toxic poison that would kill anyone it touched. The satchel still sat next to her, and she reached back in for anything else. 

 

She unfolded a small piece of paper that was stuffed haphazardly in the bottom, her eyes flickering across the image and text scrawled on it. A young, petty thief’s portrait. 

 

Phil couldn’t have been taken. He knew better. He knowingly, consciously, went _with_ the thief in the picture. Gothel figured to the kingdom, no less—Phil was droning on and on about those lights, after all. 

 

She was suddenly reminded of her fleeting immortality. Her hair was greying quicker and quicker, her skin becoming less youthful and more wrinkled and worn. She had to get Phil back, and fast. 

 

She stuffed the poster into her basket, and descended down the stairs to venture back outside. She was going to the kingdom, and one way or another, she was getting Phil back.

 

* * *

 

  
“You still haven’t really told me about yourself,” Phil ended the quietness that fell between the two, their footsteps becoming more and more tired and shallow as the sun dipped past the horizon. Dan stopped, huffing for a moment before sitting down and letting his legs stretch out in front of him. Dusk began to rush in rapidly. 

 

“We made great ground today.” He ignored the question, for now, sitting against the trunk of a tree. “We should make it to the kingdom gates by ten tomorrow morning.”

 

Phil crossed his arms, slowly sinking down next to him. Dan sighed once he saw Phil’s face, and gave in to his inquiry. “What do you want to know about me?” He answered, hesitantly. “There isn’t much to know, honestly.”   
  
Dan wasn’t used to talking about himself, or having anyone  _ want  _ to know anything, for that matter. He was a tightly closed book, but not necessarily by choice; he simply never had anyone to open up to. He didn’t really have time to make friends or maintain relationships whilst bouncing from place to place, so he just kept to himself. Figured no one really cared anyway.

 

“Well, just about,  _ you,  _ I guess.” Phil said, hugging his knees to his chest. “What made you a thief? How’d that all start?”

 

Dan laughed to himself, his head lolling back, eyes going wide for a moment in amusement. “Asking all the hard questions, I see.” He sighed, relaxing again. “I’ve, never really had anyone. I never knew my parents; I grew up in multiple homes for orphaned kids, moving from place to place. I never had the stability of a family. When I turned sixteen I just, left.” He turned to face Phil, eyes soft and stoic.

 

Phil had never seen anyone like this. Granted, other than his mother, Dan was the first person he  _ ever  _ saw, but the raw emotions he was witnessing Dan experience was only something he thought could be described in a novel. 

 

And the way they made him feel was all new as well.

 

His chest tensed up, his throat began to constrict, and a whole new meaning to sadness washed over him within a few moments. Phil felt his heart ache for him.

 

Dan continued. “So, I stole. Anything I got my hands on. Food, money, anything. I figured the crown would be my greatest heist yet.” He chuckled again. “I just hope the palace guards don’t find me, though. I’m fucked if they do.”

 

Just like that, Phil snapped out of his melancholy stupor. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that, Dan.”

 

Dan shrugged. “Eh. It’s not as bad as staying in a tower my whole life.” He nudged him, grinning. 

“At least I got to feel the ground.”

 

Phil rolled his eyes and slumped back. “I can empathize, though,” he started. “All my life has been ‘protect your hair!’, and I never got to face true experiences and adventures like you did.” He flicked his eyes up to him. “Maybe we have more in common than we think we do.”

 

Dan laid himself down, holding up his upper body with his arm, one corner of his lips lifted. “Perhaps we do.”

 

The silence that fell with them brought the chirping sound of crickets and the hooting of distant owls with it. Night had finally fallen, the sun long gone and now replaced with the pale blue glow that was the moon above them. Dan parted his lips to speak. 

 

“So, how did you figure out you liked boys? I-I mean, since you hadn’t actually  _ met  _ any.” Dan tried to make it sound less, weird, but found himself stumbling over his words. 

 

Phil’s cheeks flooded crimson. Internally, he hoped Dan wouldn’t bring it up. He hoped he’d just ignore it; move on, never bring it up again. But a subject like that was inevitable to avoid, though. Unfortunately. 

 

“I, um, well,” He cleared his throat, shifting in his place. “Mother used to read me these fairytales, y’know, with the dashing hero who saved the day.” He laid down slowly, still pressed against the tree. “When she explained marriage to me, I always said I wanted to marry the boys in my storybooks. She never liked that much, saying that marriage is only for boys and girls, but I couldn’t help but imagine being with them. I used to think that one would rescue me from my tower one day, just like they did in my stories.” 

 

Phil let out a breath. That was the first time he’d said anything like that out loud, ever. A weight lifted off of his shoulders, and he finally glanced back at Dan. “I know, I know. Dumb, right?” He laughed, running his hands through his hair, trying to play it down. Dan shook his head. 

 

“Not at all. Kinda cute, actually.” He smirked at Phil’s rapidly darkening cheeks, rolling onto his back. 

 

“And what about you?” Phil asked.

 

Dan cocked an eyebrow. “What about me?”   
  


Phil sighed out and punched him gently, rolling his eyes. “You like boys, don’t you? How did  _ you  _ figure it out?”

 

Dan shrugged and set his hands behind his head, crossing his ankles. “I dunno I just, always knew, I guess. There was no figuring out, it was just, there.” He looked back at Phil. “Like an instinct, y’know?”   
  


Phil nodded and scooted closer to him, the warmth of the daytime now long gone, replaced by the coolness of night. “Maybe we could find boys when we get to the kingdom.”

 

Dan laughed, loudly. “That’s not how it works!” He covered his mouth with his hand, shaking his head. Phil pouted and pushed him over. 

 

“You never know!” Phil squeaked, laying on his side next to him, eyes staring at him. He could watch Dan laugh for hours, memorizing the way his cheeks glowed and eyes crinkled as his smile widened. Deep down, he was hoping a certain boy would find  _ him.  _

 

Dan shrugged and stopped, sighing, smiling at him. “Maybe. But don’t get your hopes up.”

 

Phil smiled and shook his head. “I won’t.”

  
  


Maybe he wouldn’t get over Dan. 


	5. Chapter 5

The kingdom was crowded. 

 

People walking this way and that; vendors at their carts trying to sell fresh baked bread or stamped pieces of fabric. It was hectic, but Phil loved it  _ all _ . He loved how loud it was, loved the busy streets, loved the simple act of living. He felt alive the moment he walked past the entrance into the bustling kingdom before him.

 

“God, why would you ever want to leave this place?” Phil asked, his head tilted back, marveling at the rows of homes and banners strung between them. The kingdom was in a celebratory mood; it was the prince’s birthday, after all. Lost or not, it  _ was  _ his birthday.

 

Dan rolled his eyes at Phil’s statement. “Oh, believe me, once you’ve lived here all your life, you’d be itching to leave.” He said, trailing along behind Phil. It was almost cute the way he stared at everything, stopping every few steps to lean in closer. Witnessing someone experiencing, life, was oddly intimate. Dan almost felt as if he didn’t deserve to be the one to be with Phil during it.

 

“I’m not quite sure what we can do; I want to do everything and nothing at all, all at once.” Phil said, turning around, hugging himself. He picked at his fingernails.

 

Dan shrugged. “Well, we’ll see the lanterns tonight, for the prince’s birthday, but until then, we’re free to do whatever we want.” He leaned into Phil slightly, taking his hand and chuckling. “So, relax. We have all day, and we can do  _ whatever  _ we want.”

 

Phil’s eyes sparkled, the corners of his mouth lifting, cheeks flushing. “You know this place better than I do,” he squeezed Dan’s hand, “lead the way.”

 

Dan smirked, tucking Phil’s hand into the crook of his arm. “You’re going to do everything you possibly can, Phil,” he began, “today, you’re going to live.”

 

* * *

 

Dan sat on the floor of the town square library, slowly flipping the pages of a geography book. Phil traced the outlines of the drawings with his fingers.

 

“What’s this..?” He asked, eyes flickering up from the page and looking at Dan. 

 

“That’s Oceania,” Dan started, moving his hand from his cheek, “it’s far southeast from here. Out in the middle of the ocean.” He flipped to the next page. “See that little part down there? That’s Oceania.” 

 

Phil stared down at it, skimming across all of the drawn borders and shapes of countries he had no idea existed. “This is the whole world?”

 

Dan nodded. “As far as we know.” He chuckled. “Insane, isn’t it?”

 

Phil rolled onto his back, staring at the library ceiling. “Makes my stupid tower seem so small.” He closed his eyes for a second. “I don’t want to go back, Dan.”

 

He smiled to himself, shutting the book and shaking his head, sitting up. “Then don’t.”

 

Phil sighed, opening his eyes. He had to come back to reality sometime. “It’s not that simple. I wish it was.” He sat up, turning to face him, perking up. “What’s next? What else is there to do?”

 

Dan pondered for a moment and stood up, offering Phil a hand. “We could always go and visit the prince’s shrine,” he hoisted Phil up, picking the book back up and returning it to its shelf. “It’s only a few minute’s walk.”

 

Phil smiled and nodded. “Is it a big deal?”

 

Dan rolled his eyes, sticking out his arm for Phil to take. “Yes, but it’s an especially big deal today. It’s why the kingdom is so, alive, today.” He opened up the door for Phil, laughing to himself. “Everyone always celebrates the prince’s birthday. It’s almost weird if you don’t.”

 

Phil nodded, walking with him, making mental notes. “Is that why there’s so much music, and dancing?” He asked. “And why those girls wanted to put flowers in my hair?”

 

Dan tilted his head back and laughed, nodding in reply. They’d come across a few little girls making flower crowns, and they had a particular affinity to Phil. He played along, of course, and had been wearing their creation all day. Dan thought it was cute, honestly. Phil looked beautiful with the flowers; they brought out the blue in his eyes. 

 

“Yes, exactly. Everyone’s celebrating, so, naturally, it’s a more cheery ambiance right now.” He pointed at a small wall to the side of them. “There’s the shrine.”

 

The shrine was a painted mural of the king and queen, with a small, light-haired baby boy in their arms, a royal blue blanket draped around him. Flowers littered the ledges around it, candles flickering at the edges. Phil stared at the painted faces, finding himself lingering around the prince’s portrait. There was a certain familiarity about him, something Phil just couldn’t place his finger on. 

 

“And tonight, they’ll release the lanterns; they’re lights that you see.” Dan smiled at him. “We can take a boat out on the water, and watch them all, if you’d like.”

 

Phil whipped his head around to look at him, eyes starting to water. “Really?” He whispered, lips wobbling into a grateful smile. 

 

Dan nodded, taking his hand and squeezing it, again. “Absolutely,” he lifted it, placing a kiss on the back of it, “you need to experience everything, after all.”

 

Phil’s heart skipped a beat, but simultaneously almost lept out of his chest. “Best day ever!” He squealed, biting his lip. “Thank you. So much.” He said, leaning into him. “You didn’t have to do any of this, but you did. I will be forever grateful, Dan.”

 

Dan rolled his eyes, trying to hide his own blush. “Oh, don’t go soft on me now.” He sighed, walking down the avenue, away from the shrine. “We’ll have to go out soon, though. Don’t want to get a terrible viewing spot, right?”

 

Phil nodded, giggling to himself. “Lead the way, then.”

 

* * *

  
Phil leaned on his arm, the ripples from their little gondola moving outward and making the water below him look like textured glass. The palace was in perfect view, and the sun had long dipped down beyond the horizon, making room for the dusk. 

 

“I never knew anything could be so beautiful,” Phil turned back to Dan, who changed his gaze from staring at him. Hey, he couldn’t help it. Dan snickered. 

 

“Just wait until you see them.” He began. “You’ll be speechless afterwards if you think this view is beautiful  _ now _ .”

 

Phil sighed out and looked down into the water, his reflection staring back up at him. “What if it’s not, not what I imagined it would be?” He asked, gazing back up, eyes on Dan. “What if it’s just, subpar? Not everything I’d dreamed it would be?”

 

Dan blinked at him, shrugging after a few seconds. “Well, that’s the good part, I guess,” he said, “you get to find a new dream, then. A new one to chase, to run after.”

 

Phil smiled at him briefly, before looking back to the kingdom in front of him. 

  
  
  


Inside the palace, the king wiped a tear from his cheek, his wife standing beside him. Twenty-one years had passed too quickly. It was hard to believe it’d been so long since they welcomed the arrival of their miraculous son, and then lost him all in the same breath. Twenty-one years of searching, of hoping, of wishing. Of nothing. The queen squeezed his hand, and the doors in front of them opened. 

 

This never got easier. It was wonderful seeing the all of the kingdom come together and celebrate, but, it was at a terrible cost on the king and queen’s side. It didn’t help that they were the ones to symbolically begin the lantern release. 

 

They walked down from the ledge they were standing on, to the podium where the lone lantern was tethered. They both took a side of the lantern, breaking it from it’s tether, holding it in their hands for a moment. The light inside of it flickered, illuminating the design on its sides. 

 

The king and queen closed their eyes, outstretched their arms up, and let go of the lantern, letting it float away from them. In a way, the lantern became their lost prince. There for a moment, before fleeting away, right out of their fingers. 

 

The queen stifled a sob and buried herself into her husband’s chest. 

 

* * *

 

Phil quickly found that Dan was right. The view of the kingdom before the lanterns began was beautiful, but god, afterwards it was  _ magnificent.  _

 

It began slowly, with only a few in the beginning, but gradually hundreds of thousands of lanterns were released from rooftops and streets, casting the kingdom in a sparkling, pale golden glow. All he could do was watch, completely in awe. 

 

Eventually, though, Dan tapped his shoulder, snapping Phil out of his temporary trance. “Everything you hoped it would be, eh?”

 

Phil nodded and let out the breath he was involuntarily holding, shaking his head. “It’s, so much better than I ever thought it would be.” He said, watching them all accumulate overhead, the light making the water glow. 

 

Dan reached over to his hand, pulling Phil’s gaze toward him with his fingers. “Now you really have to find a new dream,” he moved his eyes over Phil’s face, his heart dropping at him. Dan knew he was getting too invested in this, but fuck it. He didn’t care anymore. Phil was all that mattered right now. “Do you have anything in mind?”

 

Internally, Phil was freaking out. Dan was cupping his cheek, leaning into him, his eyes becoming half-lidded. On the outside, though, he was soft, cheeks flooding with a warm crimson color. “I may have something in mind,” he whispered, hand creeping up Dan’s arm slowly. 

 

Dan pulled Phil in closer to him, skimming his lips before leaning in fully. His eyelashes fluttered against Phil’s cheek, and his free hand drifted down to his hip, holding him tightly.

 

Phil gripped the back of Dan’s neck, his heart pounding in his chest. He saw the lights he’d been dreaming of since he was a child, but that was nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to the electric sensation of Dan’s lips on his. The feeling of Dan’s hand on his waist, of his own fingers tangled in Dan’s hair. It felt as if their whole journey lead up to this, not just the lights, but  _ this _ . The unsaid feelings that had built up between them, wrapped up in a perfect kiss. Phil would’ve given anything to give himself to Dan in that moment;  _ all  _ of him. 

 

Dan pulled away after what felt like years, eyes drifting open, his lips in a stupid little smile. He laughed, and Phil followed suit, erupting into a fit of giggles as soon as his eyes met Dan’s. 

 

“God, what are we doing?” Phil asked, running his hands through his hair. Dan shrugged and pressed his forehead to Phil’s, pulling him closer, if it was physically possible.

 

“I don’t know, but I want to do it over, and over, and over..” He pecked Phil’s lips, sighing. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

 

Phil smiled at him, draping his arms over Dan’s shoulders. “So are you,” he swallowed thickly, the sparkle in his eyes beginning to dim. Reality was starting to set in.

 

He had to go home. He had to leave all of this behind; had to leave the kingdom, the adventure, the  _ life  _ he experienced. He had to leave Dan. He had to go back to that cramped tower again, and had no idea when he’d ever escape its confines again. 

 

Phil’s face changed, and he choked out a weep from his chest. He pressed himself to Dan’s, holding him tightly. 

 

Dan blinked, furring his eyebrows. “Hey, you—you okay..?” He asked, hesitantly, unsure of what was wrong. 

 

“I don’t want to go,” Phil sobbed, fingers curling around Dan’s shirt, “I don’t want to leave you.” He looked up at him, his cheeks wet with tears, more spilling from the corners of his eyes. “But I have to.”

 

Even Dan momentarily forgot about all this, and once Phil said it, his heart broke. That’s right. Phil had to go back home. He’d probably never see him again. Almost a week of falling in love with him, only to leave him with a tearful goodbye. Dan rubbed over his back softly, trying to comfort him as best he could. “It, it’ll be okay, Phil,” he soothed, trying his best not to cry himself. “Shh, you’re going to be okay. I promise.”

 

Phil sobbed into Dan’s chest, the lanterns dimming off in the distance.


	6. Chapter 6

Dan held Phil in his arms for what seemed like hours, watching the lights taper off into the horizon and flicker out, their glow giving way to the dull darkness of the night. Dan comforted him until they finally returned back to shore, back to the kingdom, back to reality. Their journey was coming to an end; Phil had to go home. They’d spent three days walking to the kingdom, getting to know one another, and now it was over.  _ Phil had to go home _ . 

 

The three days back were bittersweet. They’d passed by everything they’d previously saw; patches of azaleas and daisies, the restaurant they stopped at on the way. Until finally, they made their way into the familiar little clearing, the tower standing ahead of them, untouched, as if nothing had happened at all. Phil stopped once he stepped out from the covered walkway. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Dan turned around to face him, a few steps ahead of Phil. 

 

He knew what was wrong. He just didn’t want to admit it to himself; it’d be real if he did. 

 

Phil took a breath and tried to keep himself from breaking down. “I don’t want to go,” he croaked, his throat constricting, “I don’t want to leave you.”

 

Dan softened, his body becoming more relaxed and airy. He extended out his hand for Phil to take, backing up to be at his side. “I’m going to be right here with you.” He said, pressing a kiss to Phil’s temple. “I promise. I’ll come up with you.”

 

Phil lifted a corner of his lips gratefully, taking Dan’s hand and squeezing it, leaning into him. “Thank you,” he breathed, setting his head on Dan’s shoulder. He began to walk again, their close proximity to the tower increasing with each step. 

 

The tower truly hadn’t changed. The rope was still down, lazily flowing in the quiet breeze, and the windows were still cracked open. Though he was still standing with Dan, staring up at the tower made Phil feel more lonely than he’d ever been.

 

He was the first to climb, and Dan wasn’t too far behind him. As he left the ground, he tried to, if only for a brief, fleeting moment, capture the memory of the grass on his skin. The warmth of the ground, how the sunshine felt on his face. He didn’t know when he’d ever do this again. 

 

Phil finally reached the window, pushing it open and swinging his legs inside. He could hear Dan ascending up the rope behind him.

 

He never realized how small the tower was before he experienced the world. Compared to the kingdom and the library and those geography books they’d spent an hour looking through, the tower was nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was a cramped, miniscule corner in a world that had so much more to offer. And Phil was back in it. 

 

Dan finally drug himself up and pushed his way into the tower, standing up and balancing himself. “You okay, Phil—”

 

He was cut off by something. Something sharp that made his vision blurry and breath stop, and once it pulled out and away, he crashed down into a heap on the floor, clutching at his side. His fall caused the mirror next to him to topple over and shatter, the glass scattering all over the floor in a mess of shards. 

 

Phil turned around hurriedly once he heard Dan groan out in pain and fall, his eyes catching a glimpse of the shadowy figure that inflicted the wound. 

 

“Hello, dear.” The voice was familiar; smooth and imperious, rich like dark chocolate. “Did you have a nice trip?”

 

Phil furrowed his eyebrows, his mind putting the pieces together before the phantom-like shape even showed their face. “Mother?”

 

She grinned and stepped out of the darkness, her face twisted in a sly, upturned smirk. “We’re going far, far away, Phil.” She said, stepping closer to him, her face just a few centimeters from his. “Where no one will ever find you ever again.”

 

Phil noticed something about her, something he hadn’t before. She wasn’t the same woman she was before she left; she was more, aged. Her hair was nearly all whitish-grey, her eyes more sunken in and dark. Fine lines streaked out from the corners of her eyes and mouth. She was almost unrecognizable. 

 

Dan writhed on the floor, his fingers now stained with the life that was draining out of him, his eyes becoming heavier with each passing moment. “Sh-She just doesn’t want y-you to know the truth, Phil,” he staggered out, painfully, trying to catch his breath. Gothel twitched at his comment. 

 

Phil flickered his eyes from her to Dan, then back again. 

 

“The mural, Phil,” Dan’s breathing grew short, “think of the mural; the little boy. You share birthdays, you’re the same age.”

 

Gothel burst out laughing, rolling her eyes. “Don’t listen to him, darling.” She cupped Phil’s cheeks soothingly, as a mother would, her eyes softening, as if she was distracting him. “It’s all preposterous. He’s delirious, dear.”   
  


Phil had already spaced out, thinking of the crown in that brown satchel, and the mural, and the boy, and  _ him _ . How weirdly, faintly familiar the glittery little thing in the satchel seemed; how he’d stared at the mosaic mural of the young infant in the king and queen’s arms for far too long, trying to put his finger on the unusual longing he felt as he looked at it. His own affinity with the lights, how he knew, somehow, they were meant for him. “I, I-I’m,” he started, snapping back, his gaze at Gothel once again, “I’m the lost prince.” His voice rang with authority, and he pushed off of the wall his ‘mother’ cornered him against. “Aren’t I?”

 

Gothel stood there, staggering back, dumbfounded. She couldn’t gather her words quick enough. She laughed out softly, rolling her eyes. “Oh please, darling, do you even hear yourself?” She asked, extending an arm to wrap around him. “You sound ridiculous—”

 

Phil grabbed her wrist, tightly. “All this time you’ve been using me for my powers, for your own gain.” He snapped his eyes to her, and for a moment, he swore he saw a flash of fear in her own. “And to think I called you my mother.”

 

Gothel wriggled her wrist free and pushed him up against the wall, pinning him there, her slender fingers wrapping around his neck. “You forget he’s dying, darling.” She moved herself out of the way so Phil could get a glimpse at Dan’s ever weakening body, still heaved over on the floor. He was still breathing, shallowly. “I could let you watch him die like this. Slowly, painfully.” She tilted her head, lips curled back into her signature grin. “But, if you come with me, I’ll let you save him. You could heal him, and know he’d be alive and well, still breathing, still living.”

 

Phil could feel his heart sink and his eyes fill with tears.  _ Dan _ . He couldn’t leave him, not like this. He couldn’t watch him die. He closed his eyes and let a few thin tears trickle down his cheeks, every fiber in his being screaming  _ ‘save him’ _ . He breathed out. “Fine.” He whispered, opening his eyes again. “I’ll go wherever you want me to go. But I’m saving him.”

 

Gothel let him go, her eyes following him as he cautiously walked to Dan, falling to his knees beside him.

 

Phil rolled Dan over slowly, biting down his lip and brushing the hair out of Dan’s face softly. Dan groaned, his face contorted in pain, his hand still on his side. His palm was coated in crimson, and his shirt around the area was flooded in it. “You’re going to be okay, I promise,” Phil whispered, lacing his fingers with Dan’s free hand.

 

“Please, d-don’t do this,” Dan looked up at him in desperation, finding it harder and harder to keep himself sitting up. “Leave m-me, you need to escape, you d-deserve to get out of here.” Phil shook his head, cupping Dan’s cheek with his hand.  

 

“It’s going to be alright,” Phil whispered, managing a small smile. Dan groaned again, writhing in pain, taking in a deep breath.

 

“I can’t let you do this.” 

 

Phil pursed his lips together, shaking his head as a few more tears dripped down his cheeks. “And I can’t let you die.”

 

Dan relaxed, accepting the fate given to him, keeping his eyes on him. Phil lifted Dan’s hand up to his hair, settling it on his forehead. “W-Wait,” Dan stuttered, stopping Phil as he parted his lips to sing.

 

He sat up and moved closer, tucking few strands of hair behind Phil’s ear, seemingly leaning in for a kiss. A last kiss. Phil, once he realized, gave in and moved closer as well. One last bittersweet, heartbroken kiss.

 

Their lips brushed, and Dan pulled back. Out of the corner of his eye, Phil could see something glittering in his hand, and in a moment, it was swiped across his forehead in one fluid movement. Dan slumped back down to the ground, the glass clattering across the floor. The longer part of Phil’s hair was gone. In one swipe of a mirror shard, Dan had cut it, and the soft mousey-gingery brown it once was gave way to pitch, dark black. 

 

Gothel screamed. She ran over to them, aging more rapidly and even horribly than she had before, her face and hands becoming bony, her whole body more and more brittle. “What have you done?!” She shrieked, over and over, backing up from them, covering her face with her hands. 

 

She fell backwards toward the window, tripping from the fallen mirror, and tumbled out of the tower. Her cloak fluttered on the way down, flapping wildly, hitting the ground flatly, with nothing to keep it in a shape. Gothel had turned to dust, instantly. 

 

Phil hadn’t even processed anything yet, but once it all hit him, his attention immediately diverted to two things: his hair, and Dan.

 

Gothel was gone, but now the thing he loved the most was slipping through his fingers. 

 

Phil pulled Dan back up, shaking his head in denial, taking Dan’s hand again and setting it atop his head. “St-Stay with me, Dan, please,” he stuttered, breath shaky and erratic, trying to keep himself from breaking down completely. He began to chant the incantation, but to his dismay, nothing happened. His hair did nothing; it was just as dark and powerless as it was the moment Dan cut it. He buried himself into Dan’s shoulder, continuing to say the words, as if it would help.

 

Dan, miraculously, still held some bit of consciousness. “Hey,” he breathed, gingerly pushing Phil back. “Phil,” He said, louder, trying to get his attention. 

 

Phil pulled his head back, looking down at him, his eyes misty, threatening to spill over at any moment. “What?”

 

Dan’s eyes drifted to a close before opening again, half lidded, looking right up at Phil. He sucked in a miniscule, shallow little breath before he spoke. “You were my new dream.”

 

Phil’s bottom lip trembled, and he pressed his forehead to Dan’s softly, still holding his hand. “And you, you,” he composed himself, his breathing still shaky, “you were mine.”

 

Dan managed a gentle smile, his eyes becoming glassy He let out one final breath before his body relaxed, eyes finally closing. His eyelashes fluttered for the last time, and that beautiful smile that he held faded into nothing. His hand loosened in Phil’s, fingers lifting off the back of Phil’s hand. 

 

Phil pressed himself into Dan’s chest and let out a loud, broken sob. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cliffhanger hehe ;)) 
> 
> though i mean, you all know what's coming, so


	7. Chapter 7

Phil sat there, on his knees, in silence, for what seemed like a whole eternity. 

 

Dan’s breaths had long since ceased, and he laid on the disheveled dark wooden floor of the tower, carefully held in Phil’s arms.

 

Within a week, Phil had everything he ever wanted, and in the blink of an eye, it was gone. It slipped right through his fingers, as if it were sand falling in an hourglass.

 

Phil’s hair was no longer the soft, light mousy-brown that he was so accustomed to; it was now a deep, dark obsidian that he couldn’t bear to look at. The long part of his hair that he constantly pushed back to keep out of his face now stayed back on its own, no longer needing any assistance. The jagged piece of glass used to cut it had scudded across the floor, out of sight.

 

He stifled back a sob, sniffled, and finally blinked out a few tears. Every emotion that had pent up inside of him ran down his cheeks, dribbling across his nose and past his chin. 

 

A few of them fell onto Dan’s linen shirt, dampening the fabric, expanding outward in arm-like branches. One, however, dripped down on Dan’s chest, staying there for a few moments. 

 

The glassy surface of the tear twinkled in the small amount of light that the tower provided, before completely changing into a cascade of gold. The tear began to slowly travel downwards, stopping at Dan’s side. 

 

It took Phil a few moments to realize the light radiating from him, drawing back in a mixture of fear and awe once he did. Spindles of yellow and light blossomed out of Dan’s scarlet-soaked wound, extending outwards and curling around everything that it passed. A set of four of the spindles hovered around Phil’s neck, wounding delicately in the air around him. The color dyed his pale skin a soft yellow.

 

Almost as soon as they’d appeared, the spindles faded away, dissolving into the air and disappearing without a sound. 

 

Phil blinked, a few feet away from Dan now, darting his eyes around the tower to look for anything out of place. He was only thrust back into reality when Dan groaned.

 

He immediately scrambled back over to him, not sure whether to touch him or talk or to just leave him alone. Dan’s eyes blinked open, half lidded, looking up at Phil above him.

 

“Phil?”

 

To hear Dan’s voice was a blessing. The soft, low melodic sound was the most glorious thing Phil had ever heard. “Y-Yeah..?” He wasn’t sure what to say, other than that. It wasn’t every day that his tears brought someone back from death.

 

“You have some really fucked up family problems, y’know that?”

 

Phil breathed out a stifled a half laugh, half sob, tacking Dan back to the ground and burying himself into his chest. “Dan!” He squeaked, arms wrapped around his shoulders, no plan of letting him go anytime soon. Dan draped his own arm over Phil’s back, smiling to himself, pushing himself up so he could sit.

 

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other, Phil weeping grateful tears into Dan’s chest. 

 

Maybe because they weren’t ready for what happened next. 

* * *

The king and queen, for twenty-one years, lived mostly normal lives. They took excellent care of their kingdom, making sure to rule their people with kindness and humility. The only exception to their perfect rule was their son, their missing heir. For twenty-one years they grieved, wishing and hoping that one day their son would return, to no avail.

 

They had many, many imposters try and sell themselves as the lost prince, but they, as well as their guards, knew to turn them away. The number of imposters dwindled as the years had gone on, but their sentry continued to deny entry to any soul who dared to try and impersonate their beloved prince.

 

So, naturally, when their most trusted guard came bursting into their drawing room, it obtained their attention. They sprinted out to the throne room balcony, the queen hiking up her dress as to not trip on the fabric. They stopped once they reached the doors, turning to look at one another.

 

The desperation was almost unbearable. This may be their only chance. They both knew that if this wasn’t their son, they’d continue to live their lives in the grief of his absence. And if it was their son, well, they weren’t sure what they’d do.

 

After a minute of hesitation, they both opened the door.

 

Standing in front of them, on the balcony, was the kingdom’s most famous thief, as well as a tall, raven-haired young man.

 

The queen was the first to approach him, apprehensively, her eyes flickering over his features and studying his every attribute.

 

Phil turned his eyes to look at her, following her movements, trying his best to not let the fear show on his face. 

 

She reached out, brushing his hair gently with the tips of her fingers, her bottom lip beginning to tremble. The moment she laid her eyes on his, she knew. The blue was unmistakable, the glimmering, beautiful blue she’d waited too long to see again.

 

She pulled him in for a hug, squeezing him tightly, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “I-I’ve missed you,” She sniffled, pulling away and turning to her husband. “We both have.”

 

The king, although overjoyed to have his son back, was wary of the man a few feet from him. His face looked worked up, suspicion bubbling in the raising of his eyebrows. “May I ask why you’ve brought the thief with you?”

 

Phil turned around and looked at Dan for a moment, walking back to him. “He saved my life,” He started, turning back to face his parents. “He brought me to you. He’s the reason I’m here.”

 

He bit down his lip, voice caught in his throat for a moment. “And I love him.”

 

The king and queen looked back and forth from one another, hesitating. They let out a breath, and the queen parted her lips to speak. 

 

“If you truly love him, and he denounces his life of crime, you may remain together.”

 

Phil could feel his heart drop. His sexuality wasn’t questioned, he wasn’t berated for his love. And, for once, his parents (his  _ actual  _ parents) did something that  _ he  _ wanted. He wasn’t used to the unselfishness.

 

He choked back a cry, but he kept himself serious, minus a wide smile. “Then I will stay.”

* * *

The kingdom rejoiced in a week-long celebration.

 

For seven days and seven nights, the entire population of the kingdom was engaged in a marvelous party. Their lost prince had finally returned.

 

The king and queen were more than content with their son, and who he had become, quirks and all. After his explanation, they sent troops of their infantry to the tower to try and see if any trace of Gothel had turned up, but to their (and Phil’s) relief, she really had vanished. Gothel was finally vanquished, gone. They now had their long lost son, at last, and they were certain there was no way he would ever be separated from them again.

 

As for Dan, he did give up his thieving. He graciously returned the crown back to Phil, and was pardoned by the king and queen for his chivalry and courage in returning the lost prince back to his home. He was also still allowed to court Phil, loving every moment he spent with him. Even going so far as to plan on marrying him.

 

Phil adjusted to life as a prince quite easily. He was beloved by all, as kind and gentle as he always was. He did tend to go off and mess around with Dan from time to time, but that was to be expected, after all. He was a prince well worth waiting for. 

 

He finally had a family, and a boy he could only think of in storybooks. 

 

Phil, for the first time in his twenty-one years, stopped dreaming of a world beyond his confined tower walls. He  _ was  _ the world beyond his tower walls. And god, he was happier than he could’ve ever been. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It may have been a little short and shitty at times, but nevertheless I hope you liked it. I truly appreciate you reading my fic, thank you so much again :>


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